


Firepower

by Lazaria



Series: The Memoirs of Admiral Lockley [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, BDSM, Dominant Armitage Hux, Eventual Smut, Evil Plans, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Intrigue, Military Kink, Mind Games, Original Character(s), Phone Sex, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazaria/pseuds/Lazaria
Summary: True love destroys everything in its path. Especially Resistance scum.





	1. Foreword to Volume II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few notes from a First Order historian.

**** FROM THE ARCHIVIST *****

How much of Lockley's memoirs are true? We can only speculate. We do know that Hux bent the rules for her on multiple occasions. That fact says more about their relationship than any memoir ever could.  
  
Despite attempts at suppression, Volume I spread through the ranks like wildfire. Some saw it as simple entertainment. Others saw it as cleverly disguised propaganda, designed to bolster support for the Admiral _in absentia_. Rumors began to circulate. It was widely believed that Lockley had escaped into exile after her trial (see Vol I ch. 10) and would one day return to command the fleet.  
  
After Lockley's disappearance, Hux suffered a complete breakdown. Though he maintained composure in public, his private logs reveal his growing obsession with the lost Admiral:  
  
_LOG 2019 [DATE - TIME REDACTED]_

 _x.1: It's done. I've sent Phasma to ship her to Jalara. May she rot there forever. I was a fool to hope she was loyal. The universe will never allow me such happiness, and I never deserved it. No more distractions. Only the Order matters._  
  
_x.2: This business with Ren must end. Tonight._  
  
_x.3: Failed again. Inexcusable. Need to think._

 _x.4: She knew. She knew I could never carry out her execution. That was her challenge: to test me, to see how far I'd bend to spare her life. Breathtaking, reckless. What kind of woman puts her head on the chopping block in front of the whole First Order, just to prove a point? My beloved Abigail. I must confront my own weakness. Am I such a weakling? Can love coexist with order? I despise myself more every day. But she was right. Fearless, beautiful, mad. And right._  
  
_x.5: It's too much. Can't sleep. Can't function. Shameful lack of discipline. Thirty lashes for myself later._  
  
_x.6: Ren is too strong. He's diverted the fleet in search of that Resistance girl. Refuses to listen to reason. Execrable lack of judgment. Patience. Patience._  
  
_x.7: Investigating the situation. There must be a way._  
  
_x.8: My stubborn stupidity has cost the First Order its best hope. I can't do this alone. I've made a serious error. Horrifying. How Ren makes fools of us all._  
  
_x.9: I am utter scum. Not fit to lick the ground she walks on. Forgive me, my ruthless darling... No, don't. Never forgive. I know you wouldn't. You'd lacerate me thoroughly. I can almost feel it. If I close my eyes._  
  
_x.10: Sleep is for the weak._  
  
_x.11:_ _I'll have her and the rest of it be damned. I'll have her, or die trying. There is no third alternative._  
  
Kylo Ren refused to allocate resources for Lockley's return. He was too focused on his pursuit of Rey, the Resistance girl who eluded his grasp. Hux tried to dispatch his own ships without success. Repeated clashes with Kylo Ren led to physical injuries that eventually confined the General to sick bay. Meanwhile, in exile on the remote planet of Jalara, Lockley began writing her memoirs. Volume I shipped out shortly after her arrival.  
  
Volume II begins with the ex-Admiral plotting her escape...


	2. Escape Velocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockley hatches a plan.

***From the Memoirs of Admiral Lockley: Volume II***

 

Jalara was a world of windswept peaks, coniferous forests and tundra that floated alone in the Outer Rim Territories. Few people knew about it. I doubt it's even in the charts. This planet, where I'd spent the last two months in exile, was just the place for people who wanted to disappear. It was less ideal for those who wanted to be found.

The cold snap of dawn stung my cheeks as I hiked through the taiga. My hut stood just outside the smugglers' outpost. I could have lived in the outpost itself, but I preferred exposure to the elements. The wind, the bitter slicing sleet, the oblivion of the storm -- that harshness kept me alive through the solitude. The thrill of sensation. I craved it. Only one other person ever understood this, and I'd lost him.

I spent hours in the outpost trying to contact the fleet. I tried every connection I knew, but it was no use. The equipment was old and rusty; it couldn't hold a signal. Every day, I heard the same static.  
  
Every night, I had the same dream.  
  
Blue arc of a planet, bright steel of his eyes. Red lights flashing, fighters diving. A battle in the sky. Ships exploding in white points, shattering the void; the enemy's forces scattered and fleeing. His arm around my waist. Standing on a bluff overlooking the First Order army as the last Resistance stronghold annihilated in a blast of antimatter behind us, destroyed forever as he dipped me in a vicious kiss, sharp as a blade, lust and carnage and that moment of pure bliss before we heard the lightsabers crackle.  
  
Twin blades searing the air, scarlet and blue. A flash of pain...and darkness.

I jolted awake. Hot to the bone, sweating though the hut was freezing. The night whined outside. A coating of snow draped the hut and frost clung to the dirt floor.

Taking the blanket, I went outside into the icy darkness and gazed up at the stars.

Hux would come back for me. Of that I had no doubt. When his spite dissipated and the gloom of his empty office closed in, when he went to his bunk alone for a slim hour of sleep after a thankless day spent commanding mediocre recruits, hungry for a fix he couldn't get, desperate for the one who understood, yes, he'd come back. He would not let go, not ever.

But I couldn't wait for him. Anything might be happening out there. Every moment I wasted on Jalara, Kylo Ren drove the Order further into the ground. If Armitage's life were in danger, if Kylo Ren and Rey -- no, it was unthinkable. That nightmare must not come true. I had to find the fleet and regain my command, win back the General's trust. I'd burn a swath of destruction across the galaxy for him, for the Order. I'd make the world I wanted to see.

I had to escape. No more excuses. Somehow, I had to find a way.  
  
The smugglers' camp spanned only a few blocks. A tumbledown heap of taverns and slums, it housed a handful of permanent residents. I walked down the packed dust of the main street, kicking aside the little rodents that pecked in the grass. The sun peeked over the hills, first glare of the day. At the water's edge lay the town's single store: a wooden box on raised pilings that sagged into the sea. Stepping under the bent doorframe, I ducked inside.  
  
"What you need?"  
  
The proprietor lifted his grizzled chin, drowsy from sleep. I glanced at the shelves. Piles of grimy inventory filled the corners. Everything smelled like brine and mildew.  
  
"A ship," I said.  
  
"No ships for sale here. Told you before."  
  
"A pilot, then. You must know someone."  
  
"Hah." He squinted. "Nobody crazy enough to take you. A disgraced First Order admiral? You're dead meat."  
  
"Keep your opinions to yourself," I snapped.  
  
"All right, calm down. Where you going?"  
  
"None of your concern. Do you sell anything useful here at all?"  
  
I poked through a pile of clothes in the back, grimacing as the wet mildew stink hit my nostrils. A glint of orange glowed about halfway down. I fished it out. Wrinkled and soiled, but modern: a Resistance pilot's uniform. "What's this? Salvage from Crait?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
An idea stirred in the back of my mind. A long shot, but not impossible. In fact...

"How about weapons? Explosives?"  
  
"A few."  
  
"Just give me whatever you have." I dug into my pockets. "How much?"  
  
The old proprietor wrote down a figure and showed it to me.  
  
I looked at it and snorted. "No."  
  
"Fine, I give discounts to pretty ladies. Whatever money you have, plus a copy of your memoir. Deal?"  
  
Ugh, disgusting. I shook his gnarled hand and wiped it off on my tunic. "Deal."  
  
After that, it was easy. I just had to find some pirate willing to take on a poor, stranded Resistance pilot who missed the last ship out of Crait. A simple matter of persuasion.  
  
It didn't take long. As the high command knows, I can be very persuasive.


	3. Behind Enemy Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockley infiltrates the Resistance, but Poe and Finn smell a rat.

In officer academy, they teach the basic principles of warfare. I'm sure you all remember your lessons.

 

1\. A direct attack is preferable to an indirect attack. _Aim for the throat._

2\. Find the weak point and exploit it. _Know your adversary._

3\. Strike quickly and decisively. _Do not hesitate._

4\. Employ the element of surprise. _Deception brings victory._

 

My lone wolf attempt on the Resistance fleet became a case study for these principles. But the truth is not what they teach. When I infiltrated the Resistance with nothing but a salvaged pilot's uniform and a duffel bag filled with incendiary devices, I had only the vaguest outlines of a plan.

Recruits: don't try this at home.

I weaseled my way in through a combination of luck and charm. The whole fabricated story about heroic acts on Crait didn't hurt. I talked about being left for dead, various romantic notions about freedom from tyranny, etc. My pilot disguise fit well enough to convince them. My acting skills were less reliable. It's amazing that they didn't catch on in the first week. Which speaks to principle 5:

 

5\. If the enemy is forgiving, use that as a weapon. _Trust is weakness._

 

A First Order officer aboard a Resistance vessel is in for a culture shock. I found their lax attitudes to be incredibly trying. Everything went against my instincts. I had to constantly remind myself not to stand up so straight, not to speak so formally. When my training got the better of me I played it off as a joke, and the Resistance fighters enjoyed that. Little did they know the joke would soon be on them.

The actual piloting was less difficult than expected. My flight training was rusty and the design of their ships unfamiliar. Fortunately, the Resistance doesn't require much of its pilots. Errors that would have earned me a day of punitive labor in the Order were met here with "encouragement" or "positive reinforcement" or other such nonsense. This command style goes a long way in explaining why the Republic repeatedly drops the ball when tasked with maintaining an entrenched power structure on the galactic level. Never trust an organization that doesn't salute on sight.  
  
But I digress. The point is, I was undercover with the Resistance forces -- and I planned to make it count.

The primary objective was access. I needed to get into the engine rooms, the phaser banks, the reactor chambers. Places I could plant the explosives to cause maximum damage. I'd need to get into the comm room and contact the First Order fleet. Then, I'd need to escape: steal a fighter and get off the ship without being noticed, or at least without being shot. And hope that the First Order fleet arrived in time.

Audacious? Yes. Stupid? Perhaps. Suicidal? Definitely. But it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to destroy the Resistance from within, and that chance was worth the risk.

If I succeeded even moderately, I'd go down in First Order history, get my command back and military honors on top of it. Grand Admiral Lockley. I smiled at the thought. Hux would be my slave after this.  
  
Poe Dameron proved to be my first problem. He distrusted me from the beginning. When we met, he was making some adjustments on his X-Wing. I had the bad luck to be walking by when he dropped the wrench.  
  
"Hey, you! Pick that up for me, will ya?"  
  
I grudgingly handed the wrench over to him.  
  
"Thanks." Poe grunted as he tightened the bolts behind the thruster. "You're the new pilot, right?"  
  
"Just joined."  
  
"Good for you. Bet you can't wait to knock out some of those First Order thugs, huh?"  
  
I smiled the biggest, stupidest smile I could manage. "It sure is exciting!"  
  
Poe chuckled. "Sure is. Bunch of assholes. Nasty snobs, too. Especially that General, what's his name again? Hugs?"

"Hux," I said stiffly. "Armitage Hux."  
  
"Riiight. Ha ha. What an idiot. Hey, are you all right? You look kinda pale."  
  
My hands clenched and unclenched. "I'm. Fine."  
  
"Y'know, you're not like the others." He tapped the wrench thoughtfully. "Yeah. Something different about you."  
  
"I hadn't noticed."  
  
"What was your name again?"  
  
"Ana Loralei."  
  
"Where you from, Ana?"  
  
I named an unremarkable planet, and immediately regretted my choice.  
  
"No kidding! My buddy Finn is from there. You ever meet him? He used to be a Stormtrooper, you know. Interesting guy. I'll introduce you."  
  
"Oh," I laughed to hide my unease. There was a good chance that a former Stormtrooper would recognize me. "You don't have to do that..."  
  
"It's no problem. He's around here somewhere." Poe glanced around the fighter bay and pointed. "Hey, Finn!"  
  
He was already there before I could run away. I winced as he gave me a hearty thump on the shoulder. "New pilot, huh?"  
  
"Ana here is from your planet, Finn! Small galaxy."  
  
Finn's dark eyes went wide with excitement. "Really? What part? How'd you escape the recruitment?"  
  
"I'd rather not say," I said. "Painful memories and all that."  
  
"Right, right..."  
  
Finn was squinting at me now, looking too closely at my face, as if trying to place it.  
  
"Well," he said finally, "we're glad to have you."  
  
I thanked him and got away somehow, making an excuse, but when I looked back he and Poe were still watching me from across the fighter bay.

The deception was wearing thin. Maybe Finn didn't recognize me yet, but eventually he would. If I ran into Rey, it was all over. She wouldn't forget an officer she'd fought in hand-to-hand combat.

Time to get cracking. I ducked back into my quarters and unzipped the duffel.


	4. Disconnected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone sex via commlink is risky business.

The comm room stood ready; quiet. I ducked inside. I'd timed this just right. It was late enough that no one would see me. For a few precious moments, I had access to equipment powerful enough to reach the First Order fleet. If they'd answer. If I could do it without getting caught.  
  
I crouched behind the console bank and adjusted the bandwidth. A direct line to the flagship would be too obvious; the Resistance would know that someone had betrayed their position. But Hux's private frequency...that would work. No one on this ship knew that code. No one would recognize it. Days might pass before they understood the anomaly, and by then I'd be back on the star destroyer at his side, ready for all kinds of unspeakable acts.  
  
The frequency crackled and spun. A sine wave searched for its fix. When the receiver clicked on, I felt a surge of nervous energy. What if he didn't pick up? What if he did? When his voice came through, so crisp and so cold, the rush overtook me with such force that my knees buckled. I steadied myself against the console.  
  
It had been far too long.  
  
"Who is this? You're transmitting from an unauthorized source. State your rank and serial number."  
  
"Rank, Admiral," I whispered. "Serial number three-two-five-eight-seven . . ."  
  
A long silence hung on the line. For a moment I was terrified that he had dropped the connection, but then he came through again, close, with liquid clarity, as if he stood right beside me.  
  
"If this is a prank," he said in his wonderful sneer, deadly quiet, "I am not amused."  
  
"General." I cleared my throat. "I have them. I have the location of the Resistance fleet. I'm transmitting the coordinates."  
  
A pause. It seemed to go on forever. Long enough to make me live and die on his silence several times over. When he spoke again, emotion strangled his voice. "Abigail?"  
   
The way he said my name was so desperate, so hungry, that I already knew everything from that one word alone. His private hell, his regret, his need -- all the lonely nights in the dark and cold, all the nights apart, all of that came out in the syllables when he pronounced my name. It mirrored my own state. Nothing more needed to be said.  
  
"It's me, Armitage. I swear it." I tapped the receiver. Strange noises filtered over the link. "Are you -- are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," he snuffed. "It's just -- I'm glad that -- where _are_ you?"  
  
"With the fleet."  
  
"The Resistance fleet?!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He exhaled in shock.  
  
"No need to be coy," I teased gently. "You missed me."  
  
"Spectacular woman," he murmured. "You mean to tell me that you escaped from exile, infiltrated the Resistance, and just now delivered their fleet into our hands, entirely on your own? Just like that?"  
  
"Just like that."  
  
"You absolute goddess..."  
  
Something scuffled outside the room. Footsteps? I lowered my voice. "Listen. I rigged some delayed explosives. How far away is our fleet?""  
  
"Twelve hours, but we'll be there in nine."  
  
"Don't delay."  
  
"I certainly won't." A thin burst of static as he shifted and his voice dropped low. "Let me be perfectly clear. About the tribunal. You know I never would have done it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Are you alone?"  
  
I glanced around the room. No one was here yet, but that could change at any moment. "For now."  
  
"You don't know how bad it's been. I can't -- will you forgive me? Can you forgive me?"  
  
"I never forgive."  
  
He chuckled at that. "My evil little vixen. The things I'd do to you."  
  
"Really." I couldn't resist, even as I scanned the entrances. "Like what?"  
  
The spell of his voice took me under, cool as an ocean wave, and I found myself sliding down the side of the console bank to rest on the floor, the headset close and purring with the resonance of his words.  
  
"I'd have you bound and gagged in my chambers. Blindfolded, hogtied. Utterly defenseless. On the bunk, until I came for you."  
  
"And then?"  
  
"Why, then," his voice caught with excitement, "I'd fuck you until you cried, my gorgeous darling. You wouldn't walk for days."  
  
"Not the best strategy for military readiness."  
  
"It doesn't matter. You're mine. You always will be. Don't you know that?"  
  
I did know. I knew it all too well. The murmur of his voice undid something in me and loosed a hot soaking stream of need; I found myself dipping my fingers under my belt.  
  
"I have a few conditions."  
  
His breath whispered over the line. "I'm dying to hear them."  
  
"We have to destroy the Resistance, Armitage. When we bring them to heel and stomp them into submission, when we have them bleeding at our feet and begging for mercy -- when we stand on some balcony overlooking our empire, your empire -- then, my darling, then you'll ravage me like there's no tomorrow. I don't want General Hux. I want Emperor Hux. Is that clear?"  
  
"Oh, God -- "  
  
"There's only one future for this galaxy, and it ends with your dominion. Say yes, darling. Say yes, or I'll kill you."  
  
"Of course, yes! A thousand years of it!"  
  
"In bed together," I mused. "Fucked senseless. I'll give you a dynasty."  
  
"Twenty heirs."  
  
"Why not thirty?"  
  
"Order over all." His breath was coming fast now. "Abigail, I'm so hard..."  
  
The confession didn't surprise me. For my own part, I was warming to the edge. I could almost feel how it would be. How he'd ravish me in the mud of some battlefield, crazed with lust, nailing me into the ground amidst the carnage. Or in some palace, some fortress, lying in bed together, idly passing the days in decadent seduction. Emperor Hux could take me whenever he pleased, wherever he pleased, in public or in our private quarters; I'd be always his.

"Think of it. Think of how it'll be. You and I. The galaxy our conquest. You could do anything you like with me, anything at all. Make me the brunt of your fantasies."

"Mm. Do you think you could survive that?"

"You know I could."

"You'll bleed, my love. It'll hurt."

"I want to hurt."

The surge was almost painful. I smothered a moan. "Please -- "

"That's it..."  
  
A sound outside cracked my reverie. I ducked around the console bank and peered at the door.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
It was her. Rey. I cursed. "Armitage," I whispered. "I have to go."  
  
"No -- "  
  
"Yes. Hurry."  
  
"Get out of there alive," he said quickly. "That's an order. If you're not in my arms this time tomorrow, I'll drag both fleets to hell."  
  
The transmission clicked off. I rolled aside under the console bank. In the dim half-light of the control room, I saw her long shadow draped across the floor.  
  
"Who's in here?"  
  
I'd be stupid to try to hide from a Force-sensitive person, but perhaps I could deceive her. I coughed loudly and jangled the controls. "Just maintenance."  
  
Rey stepped into the chamber. I turned aside to hide my face.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Ana," I said.  
  
"I can't see you."  
  
So. That was it. I stood, slowly. As if by standing slowly I could reverse what was happening. I faced her across the darkened room, seeing her again just as before, those dark eyes, that crouched stance. She looked just the same as when I'd fought her on the _Supremacy_.  The recognition was immediate.  
  
Rey allowed herself exactly one breath in, and one breath out.  
  
"Well," I said. "What now, Rey?"  
  
The girl extended her hand, and I felt the Force clamp over me like iron bars.  
  
"Now," she said, "you're done."

She led me out of the room. I couldn't turn aside; couldn't move of my own volition. The bonds of the Force trapped me like handcuffs, like a straitjacket, like the cruel whim of a harsh temper. If Hux had been doing this, I would have been in heaven. I held that thought all the way down the hall. Rey didn't speak.


	5. The Jedi and the Admiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all a matter of perspective.

The Resistance's excitement over my capture proved to be short-lived. I'd only been in the brig for a few hours when the first bomb detonated. The explosion carved off an entire wing of the cruiser. I felt the shock of the blast even there, deep in bowels of the ship, and heard the yells and panic above. Not a front-row seat, true. But it's always gratifying to see the results of one's work.  
  
A transparent forcefield hummed between us as we faced each other. Rey began to pace back and forth. Ever since the explosion, she'd been on edge. I'd obviously gotten under her skin. The way she paced, like a trapped animal, you'd think she was the one in prison.  
  
"Four more?" Rey growled. _"Four?"_  
  
"It's all right, Rey." Finn put a hand on her arm. "Come on."  
  
"Tell us where the bombs are!"  
  
I reclined in the single chair inside my cell and crossed my legs. "The deal is clear. I'll tell you. But only when I'm safely back with the First Order fleet. Not before."  
  
"You won't get away with this."  
  
"One bomb an hour, for the next four hours." I drew a diagram in the air. "Strategically placed. Increasing levels of damage. The last one will take out the ship's core."  
  
"Then you'll die too!" Rey spat.  
  
"I'd die a hundred times for the First Order. You should know that."  
  
It was a moot point anyway. With any luck, Hux would have the fleet here by the time the last bomb went off. But Rey didn't know he was coming. She knew only what I'd told her: there were five bombs hidden in various locations around the ship; all on timed fuses. One had gone off already and confirmed my story. If the Resistance fleet jumped to hyperspace, they'd all go off. This last part wasn't true, but they'd decided not to chance it.  
  
"And if we let you go -- you'll tell us where they are?"  
  
"That's the deal."  
  
Rey stared at me, her face a mask of anger. I stared back at her with casual insolence. The black focus of her eyes amazed me. They'd see right into my soul, if I had one.  
  
"Come on, Rey, stop," Finn pleaded. "Don't listen to this. She won't keep her word. The First Order has no integrity."  
  
I laughed at him. "At least I'm not a deserter. Or a _coward._ FN-2187, is it? Talk about integrity. Do these people know how easily you cut and run?"  
  
"Oh, they know me." Finn shot back. "They know what I stand for."  
  
"And what might that be?"  
  
"Freedom from tyrants like you."  
  
"Yet I'm the one who's locked up. Funny how that works." I glanced back at Rey. "What about you? Rey. You could have ended the war back on the _Supremacy_ , if you hadn't been so stubborn. But you clung to your ridiculous ideals. You're so naï``ve. Do you realize what Kylo Ren would have given you? The life you could have had?"  
  
"I didn't want it like that," Rey muttered.  
  
She was looking at the floor now, avoiding my eyes. The topic of Kylo Ren bothered her. Interesting. I'd been under the impression that it was a case of unrequited love, but the reality seemed more complicated. Did it go both ways?  
  
I watched her carefully. "So you did want it."  
  
"I want Ben Solo! Not Kylo Ren."  
  
"Ben Solo's a myth. A ghost of the past. Kylo Ren is flesh and blood." I stood up and approached the forcefield. "You ended countless lives when you turned him down. All in the name of an abstract cause. How selfish are you?"  
  
"You don't understand!"  
  
She was almost sobbing now. Finn moved her aside and stabbed a finger in my face, making the forcefield crackle. " _You_ shut up. Right now."  
  
"Or what? You'll torture me?"  
  
"This is the Resistance, not the Order. We don't torture people here."  
  
"Aww," I made a sad face. "What a pity."  
  
"You're sick!" Finn shouted. "You'd probably enjoy it."  
  
"And you wouldn't? Look how angry you are. That's the kind of passion the Order could use. Why don't you come back? I'll process your paperwork. I know Phasma misses you."  
  
Finn made an exasperated noise. "That's it. I'm outta here. Rey, come on."  
  
"No!" said Rey. "We still don't know where the bombs are."  
  
"Everybody's on it. We'll find them."  
  
"You won't." I shrugged. "It's a shame. Ben would have preferred you alive."  
  
Rey stepped close to the forcefield and hissed through it. "Don't say his name. You're not fit to say it. You don't know anything about him."  
  
"I know plenty. Things you wouldn't imagine."  
  
"Rey." Finn tugged at her arm, but she brushed him away.  
  
"Leave me," she said.  
  
"I'm not leaving you alone with this monster," Finn protested. "She'll poison your mind. You don't know what these people are like."  
  
Rey breathed in and out tightly through her nostrils. "I said leave."  
  
The ex-Stormtrooper glared at me. I returned a pleasant smile.  
  
"So long, FN-2187."  
  
"You'll pay for this," he muttered, and strode out of the chamber.  
  
The door hissed shut behind him. At last, we were alone. The forcefield's hum droned loud in the silence, a blue-white sheet that flickered and popped, just visible, shimmering like a curtain in the air. I pulled the chair closer to the edge of the cell and leaned against it.  
  
The real barriers between us were invisible, but not insurmountable. What did Rey really love about Kylo Ren? Was she drawn to the Ben Solo side, as she claimed? Or did they share a darker attraction? The question interested me for both professional and personal reasons. Rey had an intensity about her that I liked, even if she misapplied it in service of the Resistance. I still wanted to recruit her. If Kylo Ren's advances had been too clumsy, perhaps I could do a better job.  
  
"So you want to talk," I said.  
  
"I want to ask you something."  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
Rey looked at me in a new way, now that we were alone. Her natural curiosity rose to the surface. Something simmered in her. A question that had not yet been answered, a matter of the heart, unresolved, that ate at her and distracted her from her ideals. I had information that she badly wanted.  
  
"Tell me about Kylo Ren," she said.  
  
"What do you want to know?"  
  
It was hard for her to ask. "How does he really feel?"  
  
"About you?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Oh," I smirked. "He's obsessed, of course. But you already know that."  
  
"Why won't he turn? Why can't he just walk away?"  
  
"Would you walk away from what you believe in?"  
  
The question seemed to confuse her. She blinked a few times. Suddenly tongue-tied, she fell silent.  
  
"Let me ask you a question." I paced along the forcefield, observing how she unconsciously mirrored my movements. "Why did you join the Resistance?"  
  
Rey's thoughts drew her inward as she considered the idea. Her eyes became distant. "To fight injustice. Like the Rebels. To save the galaxy. To -- "  
  
"To create a better future."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"A future free from strife, from oppression. But what is strife? What is oppression? It's war. That's what we have now."  
  
The girl frowned. "I'm fighting to end the war."  
  
"Are you?" I glanced at her. "How hard are you trying? Ren offered an olive branch, and you rejected it. That's on you."  
  
"We didn't start this! _You_ did!"  
  
"Pff. Hardly. We only want to re-establish the galactic Empire that your precious Rebels shattered so violently, all those years ago. Study your history."  
  
"No." Rey shook her head. "You're wrong. I couldn't join Ren. That would be giving up on everything I believe in."  
  
"Why?" The limits of her imagination were staggering. I marveled that she could be so simple-minded. There were possibilities in her relationship with Ren that completely eluded her, even at this late stage. "Do you have so little faith in your own influence? Think about it, Rey. What you could accomplish with that sort of power. You could remake the galaxy in your image. It can be anything you want it to be. You can even remake the Republic, if that's what you want."  
  
"Kylo Ren wouldn't let me do that."  
  
"Who cares? You'll have the galaxy. Ren's not the issue. Trust me. Once you have him in bed, he'll be your slave forever."  
  
Rey blushed a deep scarlet. The image of herself and Kylo Ren in the throes of passion was evidently more than her virtuous wiring could handle. What must that be like? I shook my head. Poor wholesome Rey. The fun you're missing.  
  
"It's not right," she muttered. "It can't happen like that. The ends don't justify the means."  
  
"Of course they do," I snorted. "What world have you been living in?"  
  
"The Rebels would never have compromised."  
  
"The Rebels were irresponsible. They went into battle against vastly superior forces and sent their own pilots to certain death. Peace is compromise, Rey. Think how many lives you could save."  
  
Rey's face darkened as she fought with herself. One more push might do it. Besides, I knew what she really wanted.  
  
"Think about Ben," I murmured. "He won't last long without you. You can save him."  
  
The roar of a blast thundered somewhere above. Rey staggered and I grabbed the chair to steady myself. Cries of fear echoed in the distance. A string of red evacuation lights flickered on in the corridor, buzzing beneath the sirens and the whiff of burning metal.  
  
"That's two."  
  
Rey's breathing had become fast and shallow. She cast a frightened glance up towards the noise. "This can't be happening..."  
  
"It's all in your hands." I gestured broadly at the corridor outside. "You can stop this. All you have to do is let me go."  
  
She shook the temptation off with a brisk toss of her head. "No. Finn's right. You won't stop it. Even if I do let you go. This ship is doomed."  
  
"Then come with me. Let's end the war together."  
  
I pressed a fingertip against the forcefield and it crackled blue lightning. Rey jumped at the sound. The pain on her face was evident.  
  
"He's so lonely," I said. "You can't imagine how much he misses you. He needs you. He wants you in every way..."  
  
"Shut _up!"_ Rey cried, covering her ears with her hands. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

Despite the righteous front she put up in public, Rey had a soft interior that ached for him, for her lost Ben Solo, and that love was powerful even in its futility. It might bend her into a useful shape. I had no intention of actually bringing her together with Kylo Ren, of course. The two of them, powerful as they were with the Force, would thwart any _coup d' état_ that Hux and I might attempt. No, that meeting must not happen. But their love, their mutual loneliness, that potent need that made them doubt their own actions -- now that was something. A useful weapon. I'd be a fool not to use it.  
  
"Think it over," I said. "You still have a couple hours left, by my count."  
  
Rey rushed out of the room in tears. I lounged back in the chair, waiting for the next blast. Nothing to worry about just yet. There was still a good chance I could talk my way out of this. Even so...an eerie sense of uncertainty pricked just below the surface, expanding to fill me with a nameless dread. What if she didn't agree? What if she really was as incorruptible as she appeared?

Then came the other problem: I was locked in a box deep inside a ship that would explode in a matter of hours, and I was counting on the fleet to arrive on time.

What if it didn't?

 _Armitage,_ I thought. _You'd better be close._


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up, and Lockley gets what she deserves.

I was still in my cell when the second-to-last bomb blast ripped through the ship's innards with a crash that set my ears ringing. Smoke billowed into the chamber. Outside, under the lurid glow of emergency lighting, crewmen rushed past with muffled shouts. A power surge hit the circuitry. With a crackle, the forcefield shorted out and vanished.  
  
I stepped into the hall.  
  
It was chaos. The ship was falling apart: void hissed through breaches in the hull. Long seismic cracks in the metal sucked atmosphere from the corridors. Rey wasn't coming back. If I hoped to survive, I'd have to run for it.  
  
I stumbled over fallen machinery and cables in what I hoped was the direction of the hangar bay. No one paid any attention to me. They were all too busy running for their lives. Except for --  
  
"That's her! Don't let her leave! She dies with this ship!"  
  
Poe's voice rang out in the darkness. I glimpsed him through the smoke, pointing, and someone grabbed me and pushed me aside. A hatch lock clicked shut. I stared through the glass into the passageway, sealed and locked from the other side.  
  
"Stop!" I shouted.  
  
The light outside dimmed to a bloody murk. I fought a swell of panic. This wasn't right. It couldn't end like this. Roasted alive in a hell of my own making, utterly alone. I won't tell you what I thought about in those desperate moments, but I will say this: imminent death is a source of great clarity. I learned more about myself in that time than I ever knew before. I realized what mattered, and what didn't. I resolved to do things differently.  
  
As it turned out, I needn't have worried. Hux was punctual as always. But he cut it very close.  
  
First came the sound of shattering glass. A slim, severe figure in black appeared out of the smoke. He raised a blaster and dropped two guards by the door with point-blank shots to the head, and, without a word or a moment of delay, rushed forward and caught me in his arms, burying me in a kiss.  
  
"Abigail," he gasped, eyes wild with joy and glistening with fierce tears. "Oh, my love, my only one. I thought you were dead..."  
  
It was a deep, passionate kiss, stunning to the core. The sensation obliterated the world and left us drowning together in the shuddering, delicious toxin of it as I melted in his grip, relishing the bruise of his grasp, the single focus of a thirst finally quenched. Relief bathed my nerves. His cool hands caressed my face, cradling my cheek and running into the thickness of my hair to clutch me compulsively, possessively to him, and he dipped me low into the embrace until my feet left the floor and I lay at his mercy.  
  
He released me, breathless with that dangerous gleam. "Here," he panted raggedly. "I want you right here. I won't wait any longer. I want these Resistance scum to witness the full extent of our love as they burn to death in helpless agony."  
  
Yes. I couldn't have said it better myself.

"I missed you," I sighed.  
  
The General pulled me down with him in the smoke and ripped my shirt open, running his hands down over my breasts and over my shivering abdomen, letting out a desperate moan when he felt the slickness below. The touch of his fingers was horribly electric. I shut my eyes tight. An excruciating ache had taken over and reduced me to naked need. With trembling hands I undid his belt and flung it aside, struggling out of my pants as he tore loose and plunged into me, huge and hard, with such cruel force that I cried out in shock.  
  
God, it felt good. It felt like nothing else in the world. His eyes glittered with a metallic sheen as he drove into me with the crazed look I knew so well, that complete loss of control, the insanity of repressed lust. The rush came fast and pure as the burn of undiluted alcohol. "Armitage," I moaned, "General..."  
  
The sting of his slap across my cheek was heaven. "Louder," he snapped. "It's been ages since I heard you scream."

"Oh, God!"  
  
Smoke burned in my lungs. I ran my hands over the smooth fabric of his uniform, drawing him closer, but he grabbed my wrists and slammed them up above my head. It hurt. A yelp escaped me, and I felt a surge of wet heat.  
  
"Beautiful creature," he panted in admiration, tracing a fingertip along my chin. "You haven't changed a bit."  
  
His hands wrapped around my throat and pressed my windpipe until I saw stars and the orgasm cut me like a razor. I rode along the sharp edge of it as he pumped me with decisive thrusts, his lips parted, red hair slicked with sweat and hanging in messy strands over his forehead, pale skin flushed and intoxicated with the unbearable intensity of the pleasure. A guard appeared in the smoke through the door; I grabbed a pistol and shot him. He fell to the floor with a thud. I breathed a little harder.  
  
It excited Hux too. "My darling," he whispered close in my ear. "How many of our enemies have you killed here?"  
  
"Hundreds." I thought of the explosions, the size of the crew. "Perhaps thousands."  
  
It was almost too much for him; I felt him tense and he slowed his rhythm, closing his eyes to savor it. I arched back against the hot metal, breathing the fumes and his scent, gunsmoke and clean adrenaline. The flames licked around us.  
  
"It's only the beginning," I breathed. "I'm yours, Armitage. My Emperor. Remember your promise."  
  
"Yes," he murmured. "Oh God, yes..."  
  
"I want you to take me at the slightest whim. Every place, every hour. Tie me up and fuck me until I bleed."  
  
"Mm," he smiled. "It'll be far worse than that. I'll pump you so full, you'll be having my children constantly."  
  
I laughed, but in truth I found the idea almost unbearably arousing. "Heirs to the throne?"  
  
"They'll be so strong. Perfect, like you." Hux's fingers found my mouth and dipped inside, compelled to fill every inch with his fathomless desire. "Terrifying..."  
  
"Stop talking," I said. "Make me feel it."  
  
He kissed me rapturously, biting my lip till his teeth broke flesh. The slice of pain was delicious. I tasted warm copper. I could feel him becoming unhinged now, losing himself to the rawness of his senses. He smacked me again and I gasped in ecstasy, feeling my whole body relax into his violent strokes, and when he burst inside me the wave of hot warmth spilled over my thighs, drawing a shattering wave out of me that blossomed in that bloody kiss.  
  
Smoke stung my eyes. It occurred to me that we had to hurry, but at the same time I felt so blissfully drunk that I could almost have died right there in his arms and not cared. Hux staggered to his feet and pulled me up with him. Somehow, we managed to get into the airlock of the rescue vessel. The last thing I remembered was falling onto a rough bunk and into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Rearmament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux proposes a new strategy.

It was still dark when I woke up. My head buzzed with exhaustion, the fuzzy feeling of interrupted rest. I couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour. Starlight filtered through the viewports of the cramped cabin and split the gloom, casting pools of shadow along the floor.  
  
One of the shadows moved. I snapped upright and caught a hand in midair as it reached towards me, twisting it back until a soft laugh came out of the darkness.  
  
"At ease, Admiral," he murmured. "You'll break my arm."  
  
I tried to relax, but it was difficult. Months of constant paranoia will have this effect. "Don't sneak up on me like that."  
  
"My apologies." Hux rubbed his wrist. "But sleep is out of the question."  
  
He sat down on the bunk. In the half-light of the stars, his eyes shone pale and a subtle smile played across his lips. He seemed unusually pleased. This mischievous expression suited him so well that I soon found myself smiling too, without knowing why.  
  
"Get up," he ordered. "I want to show you something."  
  
I followed him into the passageway. The engines hummed with a hollow, submarine sound that made the void outside seem close. It was a small ship, not much larger than an _Upsilon_ -class shuttle -- one of those cramped, utilitarian designs from back when resources were scarce and budgets tight. Even so. Some devious engineer had managed to slip in an elegant feature: the navigation chamber, a cupola of transparent panels that provided a 360-degree view of the stars.  
  
A rush of cool air washed over me as the passage opened to the dome. I climbed a few steps and walked out onto the floor. What I saw left me breathless.  
  
The General drew me close beside him. "Look at it," he whispered. "Isn't it marvelous?"  
  
Lights flashed across space. A panorama of flame: bright orange, yellow, white, vermilion, green bursts of lasers that shot past and exploded on impact. The First Order fleet loomed above and cast shadows over us. Tiny sparks of fighters darted past and blinked out of sight. Far across the expanse, a line of Resistance ships hung broken in dark twists of metal, hulls ripped open, bleeding smoke. I recognized the cruiser. Ships returned fire as they fled, limping towards the safety of a planet that curved in a blue arc below.  
  
The battle flared silent and bathed the chamber in an eerie radiance. Hux gazed upward into space. His proud, hard features shone wonderfully sleek in that grim illumination, his expression caught between defiance and rapture, his eyes filled with light.  
  
"For decades I've dreamed of this," he said. "Absolute triumph. The end of all our strife, all our fear. I was beginning to think I'd never see it..."  
  
He sighed and looked away, suddenly overcome with the bitter taste of memory. I put a hand to his cheek.  
  
"Armitage," I said. "You have your victory. You won."  
  
His voice was tart with self-loathing. _"My_ victory? It's not even remotely mine. It's yours. I only got in your way."  
  
"You brought the fleet. You trusted my word."  
  
"I sent you into exile!" he choked. "Stripped you of your command and left you for dead! You! The only person who ever cared about me, about the Order -- and now -- how can I -- "  
  
He swallowed convulsively. His face went deadly pale and he turned aside to stare at the floor.  
  
"No," he shook his head. "No, it won't do. What I did to you was inexcusable. You ought to leave me. You deserve better."  
  
This statement was, frankly, too ridiculous to even dignify with a response. Anger surged through me. Impulsively, I slapped him.  
  
He stared at me and raised a trembling hand to his cheek. "How dare you."  
  
"How dare _you?"_   I retorted. "Self-pity is for weak-willed fools. Not you. You're better than that. I know what I deserve. Don't insult my intelligence."  
  
"But -- "  
  
"You want punishment?" I struck him again, much harder. He blinked and exhaled at the bracing shock. "Consider yourself punished. But never doubt your own merit. I won't allow it."  
  
Hux touched the broken skin over his cheekbone, eyes wide with astonishment. His fingertips came away red. A hint of a smile hovered over his lips. "That really hurt," he murmured in admiration.

"You're the youngest general in First Order history. You've accomplished more in your thirty-odd years than most men do in a lifetime. This new empire will be yours, not because of what you do, but because of who you are. You're not only good enough, you are exceptional. You believe in the ideal and you strive for it. Do you think I'd settle for a lesser man? Is that what you think?"

"No," he admitted. "I see your point."

"Give me my command back," I demanded. "I want the fleet."  
  
"Of course, my love. Anything you desire."  
  
"What about Kylo Ren?"  
  
"He won't be a problem, once the Resistance girl is dead."  
  
"Is she dead?"  
  
"Very likely."  
  
"Don't underestimate her." I pointed at the chaos outside. "This is all for naught if she escapes. We need to be sure. We need to eradicate the problem at its root. Ren could still betray us."  
  
"The fleet is yours." Hux tipped my chin up to gaze into my eyes. "You have my complete confidence."  
  
"I'll bring the full force of the First Order down upon them. Total war. No survivors."  
  
His voice purred close and low. "Don't spare a single soul..."  
  
The kiss was hard, but brief. Hux broke it off.  
  
"Abigail," he said. "We'll be back with the fleet in less than two hours. This moment we have now -- it won't last. We'll be driven apart. Ren will make sure of that. He won't give us the luxury of time."  
  
What a nuisance. He was right, of course. The command structure gave the Supreme Leader total control. Even if Ren spared my life, he'd never allow the General's command to overlap with mine. He knew the danger we posed to his rule. Any contact would have to be in secret. We'd be reduced to sneaking around the corridors like rats again, content with the rare sight of each other across a hallway. There was little we could do to prevent this, barring open mutiny against Ren's command, and we weren't prepared for that. Not just yet.  
  
I sighed, frustrated. "What can we do? There's no alternative."  
  
"There is one. If you'll consider it."  
  
I trembled, suddenly terrified that I might make a fool out of myself. "You don't mean -- "  
  
A flare of red light rippled across the floor as the Resistance cruiser burst into flames. Hux watched it go with a smile. He bent to one knee and took my hands in his.  
  
"In all my life, I have never met a woman so brave, so driven, and so utterly devoid of human weakness. You're exquisite. Let's put an end to this pathetic charade. No more secrets, no more false pretenses. I won't endure another separation. I can't." He gazed up at me, eyes bright as ice. "Marry me, Abigail."  
  
I began to shake. It must have been a pretty sight. Two officers in the navigation chamber with a full-blown battle raging behind them, looking like they were about to either make love or murder each other, or both. Hux's stare pierced me with hypnotic force. I found myself unable to move or speak.  
  
"Don't make me beg." He narrowed his eyes slyly. "That's cruel, even for you."  
  
I returned his smile through blurry tears. "I'd like to see that. So rare to have you on your knees."  
  
"You'll have me any way you like. But say yes."  
  
"Yes!" I cried. "Of course yes! Do I even have to say it?"  
  
He glowed at the words. "Abigail Hux," he mused. "They will fear you, my darling."  
  
"I'll do my best to earn it."  
  
"Indeed. No, don't move. I have something for you."  
  
The General reached into his greatcoat and brought out a small object. It glistened in the light: a ring, but not like any ring I'd seen. A setting of black metal surrounded a bright orb, encasing it in interlocking bands that criss-crossed its surface. The interior of the gem glittered with a nebulous crackling of radioactive red-violet, a fog that seemed to shift and change as Hux slipped it onto my finger. For its size, it was very heavy.  
  
My thoughts raced back to artillery training. I had a brief flash of standing in the snow with a group of trainees, listening as the commander spoke and traced equations in bright lines on the wall...  
  
Oh my God.  
  
"Armitage," I said quietly. "This can't be what I think it is."  
  
"Quintessence," he confirmed. "Weaponized dark energy. Enough firepower to destroy a fleet, possibly a planet."  
  
"Starkiller Base technology?"  
  
"Yes." Hux rotated my finger to admire the glow. "The very last of it. I've had engineers working for months to condense the field, to perfect the containment structure. It requires only a ballistic device powerful enough to fire."  
  
I stared, mesmerized. "This could kill millions. Billions."  
  
"I'm glad you like it."  
  
Another realization hit me, and I glanced up in shock. "Wait a minute. You've been working on this ring for months?"  
  
"Just so."  
  
Unbelievable. If my career proves anything at all, it's this: I enjoy the long game. I consider myself to be as well-versed in strategy as any military tactician. But credit where credit is due. When it came to our future, General Hux was playing a different level of chess.  
  
"Then that means -- you knew you'd ask me, even back then?" I stammered, overcome by the revelation. "You already knew? That soon?"  
  
"Third principle of warfare, my dear." He took my hand and kissed it. "Never hesitate."  
  
"How about the first principle? Direct attack, aim for the throat?"  
  
Hux knew what I meant. "Don't worry," he chuckled. "Once we're wed, I'll show you no mercy."  
  
"But a wedding, ugh." I groaned. "That antiquated ritual? Such a waste of time and resources. Do we have to?"  
  
"I promise you'll enjoy it. We'll make it a true First Order affair. Well-organized, mandatory attendance. I expect heavy casualties."  
  
"Sounds very romantic."  
  
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear. "Poor girl. You're so doomed. You'll never survive the wedding night."  
  
"Is that a threat?"  
  
"Call it a promise."  
  
The last few lights of the Resistance fleet flickered and died as we approached the destroyer, and he pulled me into a kiss.


	8. Fuel on the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Lockley make up for lost time.

  
The moment I stepped off the rescue ship and onto the destroyer, I knew something was different. Expectation hung in the air. These men and women were no longer just following orders: they were waiting for something. Dozens of eyes followed us as we walked through the hangar bay, and murmuring echoed from the corners.  
  
Hux seemed gratified by the attention, though not surprised. He set a brisk pace as we strode past the rows of fighters and shuttlecraft.  
  
"Armitage," I whispered. "What's going on?"  
  
"You're a celebrity," he said. "No thanks to the propaganda department. It's shocking how inept they've become at mass censorship."  
  
Of course. The memoirs I'd sent from Jalara had arrived and made their way through the ranks. Not only did everyone know I was alive, they'd been reading all the dirty details about my private life. No wonder they were smiling.  
  
I winked at the General. "So the book was a hit?"  
  
"Let's just say you've become popular with the troops."  
  
"Did you read it?"  
  
Hux tried not to smile. "I don't waste my time on degenerate works. You know that."  
  
"Of course."  
  
An ensign watched us as we passed. When I glared at him, he quickly saluted and assumed a very correct, very neutral expression.  
  
"You'll simply have to get used to it." Hux took my arm with a bounce that bordered on jauntiness -- which, in a man of his character, came off as extremely eerie. "It'll only get worse, now that you're a war hero."  
  
"No heroes in the First Order," I reminded him with an ironic smile. "We're all equal."  
  
"Yes, indeed. Some more equal than others. Let's not waste this chance."  
  
"What chance?" a low female voice interrupted.  
  
Captain Phasma, of course. She cast a disapproving glance down at us, and I felt just as if I'd never left. "Hello, Captain."  
  
"Admiral," she nodded. "I hear we have you to thank for this latest rout of the Resistance scum. It seems I underestimated your capabilities."  
  
"Well, everyone makes mistakes."  
  
"You swine," she chuckled. "I must admit, I'm pleased you're back. As long as I don't have to witness any more public displays of affection. It's most distasteful, not to mention strictly against regulations."  
  
"You needn't be concerned," Hux said. "It'll soon be official."  
  
Phasma's attention went to the ring that glistened on my left hand. I could almost see her astonishment through her helmet. "What in the name of -- "  
  
"First things first." I glanced past her into the corridor. "What's going on with the battle? Where do we stand?"  
  
"Minor damage sustained on a few of the light frigates, some fighters lost. Repairs are proceeding on the dreadnought. You'll have to ask the commanders for specifics."  
  
"And Kylo Ren?"  
  
Phasma paused and shifted her weight. Her voice went chilly behind the black visor of her helmet. "Kylo Ren's whereabouts are not currently known. He was last seen at the beginning of the attack on the Resistance fleet. We can't hail him on any frequency, including that of his private shuttle."  
  
A cold fear settled like a stone in the pit of my gut. I exchanged a glance with Hux. "Is it possible that he's dead?"  
  
Phasma eyed me with disdain. "If you think Kylo Ren got himself killed in your little skirmish, then you don't know him very well."  
  
"Your personal opinions are not required," Hux sneered. "He could very well be dead, for all you know."  
  
If only it were so simple. "Wishful thinking," I muttered. But Hux didn't hear it.  
  
"When did this happen?" he demanded. "Why wasn't I informed?"  
  
"We only found out after you left to retrieve Admiral Lockley. And by the way, you abandoned your post during battle. Isn't that a capital offense?"  
  
"Don't question my judgment. You know very well that Lockley is irreplaceable."  
  
"No one's irreplaceable. Not in the First Order." Phasma cocked her head to the side. "You might have been killed yourself, General. Another poor strategic decision. I'm beginning to think this little romantic adventure of yours has dulled your wits."  
  
"That's enough," I warned.  
  
Phasma shrugged. She walked alongside us as we continued on through the hangar. "Have it your way. But I'd be more careful if I were you."  
  
"Noted."  
  
We passed under a hatch and into the corridor that branched up to the main deck. As I ducked under the shadow of the upper-level catwalk, a glint of yellow paint caught my eye. Something was written in bold graffiti just out of view behind a nest of heavy machinery. I slowed down and squinted with the excitement of a sudden shock, unable to believe my eyes.  
  
"Go on ahead," I said. "I'll catch up with you in a minute."  
  
Hux stopped and turned, impatient. "What is it?"  
  
"Fleet business. Won't take long."  
  
"My quarters," he said. "Five minutes. Don't make me wait, or I'll start executing people from the balcony."  
  
I blew him a kiss. "I'll be crushed under your boot heel before you know it."  
  
He stepped away and vanished down the corridor. Phasma stood where she was and looked at me in disgust.  
  
"You two," she muttered. "Even your flirting is practically a war crime."  
  
I laughed. "Come on, Phasma. Haven't you ever been in love?"  
  
"I'm counting on you." She pointed at me. "Keep the Order in line. These fools don't know what they're doing."  
  
"Thanks, I will."  
  
We saluted and Phasma's footsteps clicked away down the hall. I stepped quietly back to the hidden alcove and edged my way around the metal tubing to get a better view. The light was bad, but I could see letters scrawled in yellow paint on the metal above, clear and unmistakable. They read:  
  
    LOCKLEY LIVES!  
  
Fascinating. Any type of graffiti is, of course, punishable by hard labor in the factories, as every soldier knows. Yet someone had taken the risk of splashing my name across a huge section of the bulkhead. It seemed the popular climate within the ranks had changed quite a bit since I'd been away.  
  
A pair of stormtroopers marched past. "Stop," I ordered.  
  
The unexpected command, coming from the depths of the alcove, stopped them up so abruptly that they almost stumbled over each other. I pulled them aside into the shadow of the machinery. They saluted hastily. "Yes, Admiral. Sorry, Admiral."  
  
"At ease." I pointed to the graffiti. "What's the meaning of this?"  
  
The first stormtrooper's voice droned fast from his helmet. "Nothing, Admiral. We'll find who's responsible and arrest them at once."  
  
"No, don't. Tell me what this is about. Speak freely."  
  
The stormtroopers looked at each other in confusion.  
  
I rubbed my eyes, exasperated. Stormtrooper indoctrination is very effective, but sometimes too effective. "Speak freely. That's a direct order. Tell me everything you know, or I'll have you both shot."  
  
This they understood. The first stormtrooper spoke with palpable relief, glad to be on solid ground where disciplinary action was concerned. "Yes, Admiral. Well -- when you left, things went to pieces. It got bad. Orders didn't come through. Maintenance fell apart, drills fell apart. There's no command. Even Phasma thought so. The new Supreme Leader..."  
  
He trailed off.  
  
"Keep going," I said.  
  
"Things were better when you were here. They said you were dead, but we knew that was a lie. We really liked your memoir."  
  
"He's got a crush on you," said the second stormtrooper.  
  
"Shut up!" The first stormtrooper elbowed him in the ribs. "Point is, we don't want Kylo Ren. We're with you, Admiral. That's why the wall says 'Lockley lives.'"  
  
My mind raced and my pulse galloped in my chest. Here were two stormtroopers, programmed from birth to absolute loyalty, questioning their Supreme Leader. Extraordinary. But of course their loyalty lay with the First Order itself, not necessarily to Kylo Ren. They would only follow him insofar as he supported the cause as they knew it. If Kylo Ren's single-minded pursuit of Rey had been so obvious that even the stormtroopers saw through him, then Hux and I had a tremendous advantage. We'd have the last necessary ingredient for our _coup:_ military support.  
  
"You believe that Kylo Ren's actions damaged the Order?" I asked carefully.  
  
"Yes, Admiral."  
  
"Brave attitude. Correct, too. I congratulate you, FC-6785. Do all the stormtroopers feel this way?"  
  
"Many do."  
  
"About a third," said the second stormtrooper.  
  
"More like half."  
  
"Forty percent."  
  
"Just forty? I dunno."  
  
"And the officers?" I interrupted, trying to keep them on track.  
  
The first stormtrooper shrugged. "Couldn't say, Admiral."  
  
"Yeah. But General Hux!" The second stormtrooper whistled. "He was in a foul mood, with you gone. And he's bad enough when he's in a good mood. If I was an officer taking orders direct from him, I'd rather have him happy. If y'know what I mean."  
  
This line was so spectacularly inappropriate, coming from an inferior officer, that I actually laughed out loud. "Pretty salty for a stormtrooper. Who conducted your training?"  
  
"Captain Phasma. We're related, you see."  
  
Figures. "Well, I did tell you to speak freely. Thank you both. You may be hearing from me. If you speak a word of this to anyone, however, I will have you executed immediately. Dismissed."  
  
"Yes, Admiral! Thank you, Admiral."  
  
They saluted with gusto and marched up the corridor. When they were almost out of earshot, I heard them whispering with excitement.  
  
"She talked to me!"  
  
"Idiot. Keep your voice down. If we get in trouble, it's your ass."  
  
"Shhh..."  
  
I took a last look at the graffiti and left the hangar. The exhilaration made it hard to think. Kylo Ren was too strong for Hux or me, but with the military at our back...yes, this might just work. We'd have to act fast. Seize power before he returned. Something must be done soon and publicly, right on the heels of this victory, to keep the momentum while the men's spirits were up. A nagging uncertainty tugged in the back of my thoughts, dragging me back to my nightmare on Jalara in the frost and cold, that vision of betrayal.  
  
It seemed so remote, so unlikely. And yet.  
  
My feet found their way to the officers' quarters. Hux met me coming down the hall. He smiled venomously and grasped my upper arm in a bruising grip. The heat coming off him was intense enough to feel.  
  
"You're late," he said.  
  
I looked sideways at him with sly interest. "So?"  
  
The door to his quarters hissed open. He pulled me inside and shoved me against the cold wall. "So. You're newly engaged, and already neglecting your duties. Tsk, Admiral. You need to learn your proper place."  
  
I glanced over his shoulder. The chamber was sparsely furnished, with an admirable lack of anything even remotely resembling comfort. Everything had a shiny black surface, spotless and gleaming, so clean that it looked wet. The bed crouched in its sharp steel frame, tightly made and little used. The single overhead light spilled a glare over the space that cut it up into hard, bright angles. There were no windows.  
  
"Armitage," I reached up to press my fingers through his lustrous hair, already distracted, gods help me. "We shouldn't...what about Kylo Ren?"  
  
"What about him? Good riddance. I don't care where he is. As long as he's not here."  
  
Hux slid a gloved hand down the curves of my waist and hip. I felt my stratagems wash away under his touch, swamped by a warm wave that made me weak in the knees. Perhaps he was right. We were together, after all. The Resistance fleet was all but destroyed. I wielded a miniature Superweapon on my finger. What could go wrong? The more I thought about my fear, the more it seemed like paranoia and base superstition. No self-respecting First Order officer would succumb to such irrational thoughts.  
  
We had better things to do.  
  
The General watched me with devastating focus, pale and handsome in the harsh light, his eyes a deadly blue.

"Well?" I smiled. "How do you want me?"  
  
His breath purred warm against my ear. "On your back. With your legs open. Tied down and totally defenseless."  
  
I pulled away and sauntered to the bed, slipping out of my uniform as I went, leaving the clothes in piles on the pristine floor. The mattress felt cool to the touch. I reclined against it and smoothed its surface. Leaning back on my elbows, I assumed the position and shot him an outrageously provocative glare.  
  
"Like this?"  
  
The light in his eyes could only be described as terrifying. He approached, slowly, removing his belt and cracking it taut between his hands, clearly enjoying it. "You harpy. Is this some pitiful attempt to control me?"  
  
"No, I just can't resist your charm."  
  
"Mm. Soon you won't be able to resist anything at all." He bound my wrists together with the belt and tied them to the frame. Idly he brushed his fingertips against the exposed underside of my arm, cruelly pinching the flesh as he worked his way downward. I shuddered in delight.  
  
"For months I've been dying to see you like this," he sighed. "Do you have even the slightest idea how happy I am?"  
  
"It's mutual."  
  
"It's indecent, really. No one should be this happy. I wonder if it's affecting our judgment."  
  
"So clear your head." I smiled darkly. "Put it in me and fuck me to death. I dare you."  
  
He smiled that saturnine smile of his, with the corners of his mouth down and his eyes filled with cold mirth. The stroke of his fingertips was a special kind of torment. He knelt on the bed and slipped them teasingly inside, watching me squirm under his touch.  
  
"You're so filthy," he whispered. "It's glorious. How much can you really take?"  
  
"As much as you can give."  
  
"I hope you mean that." The General withdrew his hand and smeared cool wetness down my neck. I curled back like an animal in heat, and his eyes went wide and black with desire. "Because if you do..."  
  
"Try me."  
  
Hux reached into a drawer and pulled out a tube of gel. "You know what this is, of course."  
  
I glanced at it. I'd frequented the athletic facilities often enough to know it well. "Liniment," I said. "Creates a mild heat to soothe muscle aches."  
  
"This is a special type. Industrial-grade, chemically concentrated, absorbs immediately, and causes a powerful sensation of cold burn through every layer of tissue. The First Order approved it only for use on prisoners of the state. It's Formula N-1039."  
  
_"That's_ N-1039?" The formula has a long and storied history as both an interrogation device and a favorite of academy students back on Arkanis. It played a key role in a rather unfortunate incident that put dozens of cadets in the hospital -- and some in the morgue. The details are sketchy, but I'm sure many of you remember it. "I thought they discontinued that years ago."  
  
"Yes. But for you, my darling, nothing's too good."  
  
He laid a generous strip of gel onto his palm, and I winced as he slapped it onto my abdomen, rubbing it into the skin with vicious strokes and massaging it into my breasts and under the length of my back and thighs, arms and legs, until it covered every inch of skin in a glossy sheen. The effect was fast as promised. An icy, tingling heat encased me like a cage. In more sensitive areas, the burn was excruciating. My pulse began to race. I felt extremely light-headed.  
  
"Oh my God," I gasped. "Armitage, this is -- "  
  
"Don't talk." He pressed a finger against my lips and it burned where he touched. "You deserve this."  
  
The ceiling light seemed to sear my skin. I closed my eyes and savored the awful sensation, listening to the crisp click of Hux's boot heels along the floor as he crossed the room. When he returned, a thin switch of flexible wood dangled from his hand. He tapped it on the leather upper of his boot, circling the bed, his thoughts revolving with horrible calm behind those blue-green eyes, drinking in the sight of one Admiral Lockley, tied up and finally at his disposal.  
  
"Don't hold back," I whispered.  
  
He cracked the switch across my torso. The sting of it on the sensitized skin was agony, but my God, did I like it. I bit my lower lip and tried not to scream.  
  
The General breathed harder, watching with obvious relish. "I said don't talk. That's an order. You're to keep absolutely silent until I'm done. Is that clear?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
Bright whips of pain sliced like freezing rain. A moan escaped me; I couldn't help myself. My hands tightened into fists and I strained against the mattress, leather bonds creaking taut. Beneath the burn of the gel and the numbing caress of the switch, a wave of lust curled tight and insistent, threatening to burst.  
  
"Abigail," Hux murmured in amazement, horribly aroused. "My God, you look beautiful..."  
  
"Don't stop..."  
  
A pale and livid flush illuminated his face as he laid down more strokes of the switch. The pressure in my sinuses, the surge of heat, and the sharp sting of it all combined into one obliterating climax -- and at that moment, I saw something snap in Hux's eyes. He threw the switch aside and disrobed quickly, untying my wrists and ankles and shoving me towards the restroom.  
  
"Into the shower," he ordered. "At once."  
  
The shower was a military locker-room affair with no door, an alcove of white and red tile recessed behind the back wall of the head. But it was spotless and large. I saw it through the orgasm's drunk blur as Hux slammed me up against the tile and turned on the water.  
  
Now. If you have ever made the mistake of taking a hot shower while covered with icy-hot gel, you know how much this would hurt. But this was no ordinary gel. It was Formula N-1039, official cause of death in Academy Training Accident 2074.1, on top of raw and broken skin. Imagine being on fire and pouring gasoline over it. Imagine, also, that your pleasure increases exponentially with each sensation of pain, the harsher the better. And now imagine that a stunning, lean, and well-endowed commander of a galactic military force can no longer restrain himself and is fucking you like an animal as the water runs in rivulets down his body, devouring you in an embrace so that you can breathe about as well as someone being waterboarded, his cock huge inside you, the lack of oxygen sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body as he thrusts you into oblivion. Then you'd have an inkling of how it felt.  
  
"Abigail," Hux panted. Water flattened his hair in a mussed, red mop and coursed over his face, his eyes burning radioactive blue. The slick edges of his chest and abdomen glistened and shivered with tension. "My gorgeous slut, I'll drown you in it..."  
  
He'd barely finished the sentence when he hardened painfully inside me, and I pulled away and dropped to my knees, plunging his cock into my mouth. I took it as deeply as I could. Hux gave an animal yelp and threw his head back, grabbing a handful of my hair and forcing himself in so that I gagged and sputtered in the stream of water, tasting rich salt, until he spurted in blinding hot jets that stung as it ran down with the water, leaving a bitter taste.  
  
We collapsed onto the tile outside. Hux seemed almost dead. A lovely pallor infused his face, and his chest heaved with exhaustion. I loved seeing him so weak. Nothing satisfies like destruction.  
  
"I can't believe you're still alive," he croaked. "Are you alive?"  
  
"Barely..."  
  
We did make it to the bed eventually. The General looked like an angel when he slept. Just one of those paradoxes, I suppose.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Notes on the Counterstrike of Enzyan IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Order historian chimes in.

****NOTES FROM THE ARCHIVIST****

After their victory over the Resistance fleet, Admiral Lockley and General Hux became unusually careless. Kylo Ren's absence should have alarmed them. But it seems their judgment fell victim to their rather strong carnal appetites. Riding on the thrill of battle, reunited after months apart, and distracted by their upcoming nuptials, the commanders threw caution to the winds and forgot the most important principle of warfare: know your adversary. By the time they managed to drag themselves out of the bedroom, it was almost too late.

The following transcript is taken from a recording of Admiral Lockley's victory speech. This speech, delivered aboard the destroyer shortly after the bombing, is notable for its openly treasonous stance and extreme arrogance in the midst of a war that was not yet truly won. The Admiral was bold enough to declare mutiny against the Supreme Leader before knowing the full situation. Ironically, if she had executed her plan a bit sooner, she and Hux might have seized control. But fate was not on their side.

\--

ARCHIVE RECORD 3101-E: Speech given by Admiral Abigail Lockley, logged [DATE - TIME REDACTED]. General Hux present.

LOCKLEY:

Soldiers of the First Order! I speak not as a hero or a commander, but as one of you. This war has been the foundation of our lives. Struggle, sweat, and blood have haunted us from our earliest days. Not a moment have we rested. We have fought and died for a better future. This struggle has not been in vain. Today, our vision becomes reality.

Look outside. The Resistance burns in our wake. The last vestiges of the rotting Republic are swept clean. Out of the ashes of this decay, we create a second galactic Empire built on order, honor, and virtue. A world where your heroic deeds live forever. Centuries from now, in a land untroubled by rebellion or strife, our children's children will point to the skies and tell how it began. Peace, prosperity, and order will reign. It begins now.

Soldiers! This world is in your reach. Will you take it?

You must take it soon. For a threat still looms. He brings with him the dark specter of disorder, and he will not rest until our dreams lie in ruins. Kylo Ren is no Supreme Leader. He has no respect for the glorious history of this First Order, no thought for you or your principles. He is a disease that must be eradicated, and together we must destroy him.

If you are in doubt, ask yourself this. Did your comrades die in the cold depths of space so that this bastard child could bring an end to all that you fought for? Will you give up your pride for the selfish whims of a Jedi brat? Make no mistake: Kylo Ren's loyalty lies with the Force and with himself, not with you. He seized his position through treachery and betrayal. His leadership is an affront to the First Order, and we can no longer acquiesce to his demands.

By the power of our joint command, General Hux and I declare Kylo Ren's authority to be null and void. We hereby relieve him from his duties as Supreme Leader. Rest assured that we do not do this lightly. When the continued survival of the First Order itself is at stake, drastic action is required. Remember, we are doing this for you.

Loyal soldiers of the First Order, our future is at hand. Only together can we ...

[Audio breaks off into a loud explosion, followed by shouts.]

LOCKLEY: Hold your position!

[More shouts, gunfire, interference]

OFFICER 1 (UNIDENTIFIED): Report! Where's it coming from?

OFFICER 2 (UNIDENTIFIED): Multiple vectors ... [unintelligible] ... location ...

LOCKLEY: Put the scum onscreen! I want to see their faces!

HUX: It's not a ship. It's coming from the planet.

LOCKLEY: Shields up! God damn it!

[Crowd scattering, static]

HUX: You can't stay here, it's too exposed --

LOCKLEY: Dispatch the fighters! Rake them! I want every inch of that planet's surface scorched clean!

HUX: Do as she says! You fools! 

[Second explosion]

HUX: Abigail? Abigail?

LOCKLEY: [faint noises]

HUX: No! I won't risk it! I won't lose you ... my love ... don't ... [unintelligible]

LOCKLEY: We're not evacuating. We can't afford --

HUX: There's no choice! Hurry --

LOCKLEY: Launch the --

[Third explosion]

[Silence]

\----

Here the audio recording cuts out. The transmitter was most likely destroyed by the incoming blasts from the planet's surface.

As the First Order fleet took evasive action, Lockley and Hux made their escape and prepared to launch a ground assault on whatever forces lay below on Enzyan IV. They did not know what awaited them. But they were resolved to obliterate whatever stood in the way of their conquest, or die on the battlefield with their enemies' blood on their hands. 

This determination would prove to be their greatest asset. Whatever their flaws, Hux and Lockley had few peers when it came to causing carnage. They were far more dangerous together than apart.

More dangerous, it seems, than even Kylo Ren expected.


End file.
